His Namesake
by Whisperwill
Summary: Will Turner-Davy Jones-comes to land for the first time in ten years.  Waiting for him are his wife...and son.  But they only have one day together.  One shot.


**Disclaimer: I don't own the _Pirates of the Caribbean_ franchise. And I'm making no money with this story. I'll need my own franchise for that.**

**A/N: Originally completed 7/29/10. Weren't we all just _dying_ to know how Will met his son after _At World's End_? This story explores that. Review! Please. :D **

**His Namesake**

The little boat seemed to crawl towards them painfully slowly, although Elizabeth could tell that Will was rowing as fast as he could. Her heart fluttered in her chest. She had been waiting patiently for this moment for ten years. Ever since her son had learned to talk, he had questioned his mother relentlessly. What does my father look like? Is he anything like me? Is he a good captain? Is he nice? Does he wear pirates' clothes? Does he wear boots? And Elizabeth, with the enduring patience known only to mothers, had answered every question. She told stories of when she and Will had been united, fighting pirates together, fighting for their lives. But at the same time, she knew that all the words in the world would never compare to meeting Will face to face. And now they were finally, finally going to.

When he reached shore, Will jumped over the side of his rowboat and hauled it impatiently out of the water. Elizabeth watched as he strode over the sand to meet them, as handsome and noble as he had been ten years ago. She forced herself to keep her composure, standing calmly in the dune grass with her hands clasped behind her back. The child beside her had stopped singing his pirate song and simply stared, eyes wide.

At long last, the boots stopped in front of them. Will was gazing down at his son.

"Hello," he said solemnly. "My name is Will."

"I know," came the shy answer. "I'm named after you."

"You're named after my father, too," Will told him softly. "Did you know that?"

But the boy shook his head, with the air of someone who was correcting a long-standing mistake. "No," he contradicted. "_You're_ named after your father, but _I'm_ named after you." He spoke these last words with unmistakable pride. Will suddenly grinned and scooped his son into his arms. Elizabeth laughed as he tossed the squealing boy high into the air. He caught his son and held him close, pressing the small head into the curve of his neck. Elizabeth leaned herself against them and wrapped her arms around them both. For this one sweet moment, they were complete—a whole family—and never mind the scathing looks she'd gotten from friends, family, and passers-by, scandalized glances at the woman who had a child but no man, or pitying glances for the woman who had a son to raise, but whose husband was nowhere to be found. Elizabeth owed them no explanation, nor had she given them any. She knew herself, her Will, and her secret. That was all that mattered.

Will leaned over his son's tousled head to kiss his wife for the first time in ten years. It was a kiss made long from absence and passions long denied them. They could have—and would have—continued for much longer, but Will, Jr., quickly got impatient. Squashed between his parents, he protested, "No kissing!" although he grinned when he said it.

"Oh?" Will said with a grin. "Your mum and I have been apart for ten years, and all you can say is, 'No kissing'? Well, maybe I'll keep doing it, just to spite you." He leaned forward to his wife again, but his lips had barely brushed hers when little Will pushed them apart. He planted his hands on his hips and glared up at them so petulantly that Will grinned, and Elizabeth couldn't help laughing. Will caught his son's hand in his. "All right, my strapping young master, _you_ are the son of a pirate," he declared. "Do you know what that means?"

"It means you show me the ropes!" Will, Jr., answered promptly, his chest puffed out.

"Exactly right!" Will congratulated him. "Now, do you see that ship?" He pointed to his beached boat, and little Will nodded eagerly. "Make it shipshape for me."

The boy snapped off a perfect salute. "Aye-aye, captain!" He took off running for it, and Will grabbed Elizabeth's hand and dragged her along after, both of them laughing. When they reached it, big Will showed little Will the way the ropes were tied, and how to make different sailors' knots. Then he helped Elizabeth into the bow, pushed off into the water, and sat in the middle seat with his son next to him.

"With our fair lady navigator," Will announced, causing Elizabeth to giggle, "and the two of us to man the oars, the sea is ours for the taking!" He taught his boy how to row, and they set off, rowing strongly, although their oars weren't quite in tandem. "And the most important part of staying together is music!" Will went on. Almost immediately, all three of them burst out into a chorus of "A Pirate's Life for Me," being of one mind. The boat bounced gaily on the waves for nearly an hour, constantly listing toward the side of Will, Sr.

As they came in close to the shoreline again, the boy let out a shrill protest. "No! Let's not stop! I'm not tired!" he told them insistently, even though his father was barely winded and he himself was panting heavily.

"All right, my little sailor," Elizabeth indulgently agreed. "You can keep to your ship if you want. But your dad and I want to be alone now, do you understand?" Will, Jr., wrinkled his nose.

"Yeah, I understand," he grumbled. His father patted him on the head and dived overboard without hesitation. Coming up for a gulp of air, he called, "Come on, Elizabeth! Time is of the essence!" His statement caused her a pang of sorrow, but she only smiled and leaped into the water to join him. They swam to shore and found a cave in which to be alone. Their company was sweet and full of deepest love, only far too short. Their son was calling to them by the time the sun was overhead, and they rejoined him to picnic on the sand, eating the food Elizabeth had brought.

There was only one day for the three of them to enjoy one another, and they made the most of it. Swimming, cloud-watching, and playing blind man's bluff were only a few of the activities they shared. But soon, far too soon, the sun was setting, and Will could no longer remain on land. He would have to leave.

Elizabeth leaned against his shoulder, and little Will stood with his arms wrapped around him. It was almost too much to bear that their father and husband should have to be snatched away from them so quickly, after having had so little time with him. Will sighed through his nostrils, watching the sun sinking, and wrapped his arms around his family, lifting both of them off the ground into his hug.

As he readied his boat, Will, Jr., asked softly, "Daddy? Why do you have to go?"

"My feet can't touch the ground, except once every ten years," his father answered him. "I'm Davy Jones now, captain of the seven seas. That's the way it has to be." He worked the sails with one hand and ruffled the boy's hair with the other.

"Can I sail with you?" little Will asked hopefully. "I know how to fish, and row, and I'm learning how to use a sword."

"That's my boy," whispered Will proudly. He got down onto one knee and gripped his son's shoulders. "You have to stay here, Will, with your mum. And I have to set sail. You'll see me again."

"I know," the boy mumbled, "but it'll be such a long time. . ."

"But it was worth the wait, wasn't it, Will?" Elizabeth reminded him, wrapping her arm around her little son. He nodded, his lips clamped shut.

"Aye," big Will agreed with her. "It was worth it." He dragged the toe of his boot through the sand. "I'll remember this," he murmured, staring down at the tiny grains. Next, he pulled his wife close to him and kissed her for a long moment. "And I'll remember this," he added in a quiet voice.

"A-and me?" his son reminded him, his voice beginning to quaver. Will lifted him up, held him on one hip, and stroked his head. Will, Jr., wrapped his arms around his father's neck, the father he'd just met, and wouldn't get to meet again until he was twenty years of age.

"Yes. I'll remember you." Will's whisper was lost in his son's hair. He sighed once more and put little Will down for the last time. With an anxious look at the sun, he kissed Elizabeth one last time, a husband's kiss of potent passion, and lastly kissed Will, a father's kiss of bewhiskered strength. Into the boat he vaulted, and rowed steadily away, his face drawn with the anguish none of them could express. Elizabeth and her son stood together, hand in hand, watching him grow too small to see. Their life awaited them back on Port Royal. And Will's magnificent ship awaited him, and his life at sea. Till he returned, they would wait for him patiently. Until then, they would have to be content with listening to the rumors, tales, and legends that enshrouded their Will Turner, the Terror of the Deep.

The End


End file.
